


The Game Keeper

by RebelDrFerguson



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/M, game keeper doctor, mr smith - Freeform, upper class clara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelDrFerguson/pseuds/RebelDrFerguson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU) suggestion by PilfreysJazzHands - <br/>Upper Class well bred Clara lives in a huge mansion, she is bored with all the young sutors her father tries on her and fancies a 'bit of rough', enter Mr Smith the new Game Keeper, a slightly grumpy and callous 48 year old , yet still a gentleman of the countryside, has Clara found the man she was looking for or is this just some silly crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your Name Sir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pilferysjazzhands](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Pilferysjazzhands).



The Game Keeper:

Miss Clara Oswin Oswald had lived on her family estate ever since she was a little girl, a beautiful woman with long brunette hair, and amber eyes, every little bit her mother’s daughter, her mother sadly, passed away not long before she was 16 years of age and alas the young women was left to be raised by her father and her nanny, Jenny.   
Now 24 she was into her own, joining her father to more and more prestigious events, more and more men a like approached and the closer they got the more they had hopes to take her hand. These men were sons of other very rich men...but when Miss Oswin had all the money she could need, why should she need to marry another rich man? 

Status. 

That was the only reason her father was so adamant she married another rich snob. It was not that she did not like them as such, she just found them all too young faced, boyish, crude sense of humour, she wanted a man. She was bored of the young men of the country clubs. She wanted someone different.   
“ah there you be Miss” called her Nanny from the patio door way, Clara had been sat on the marble wall overlooking the expansive gardens, for well over an hour, just daydreaming, of other cities, other people, the beach and just what those fields beyond their garden gate held. 

Her father had forbidden her to pass though that gate on her own, but since she had none to venture out with she had never left the gardens. “Jenny” she smiled as the small woman approached, Jenny had raised her like a big sister they had not been more than 8 years apart. “Your father is asking for you, the new Game Keeper Mr Smith will be arriving with the Grouse from his shoot soon” she smiled. 

Clara hopped down from the wall, she had worn a closer fitted dress today, but taking a second glance she guessed perhaps a change was needed to greet their new guest.   
They walked up to her rooms together to prepare her for their guest, “Red ...or...green?” she asked her nanny, spinning around holding up each dress, Jenny turned from pouring the tea on her dresser, “oh definitely the red one my dear, you always looks so flawless” she smiled, Clara giggled hanging up the other dress.

The girls changed and made their way down stairs once Clara’s father called announcing their new guest had arrived, “So...who is this man?” Clara asked as Jenny held the door open for her. “The new Game Keeper my dear, Mr Smith, he will be working to keep your field beyond the gate free of pests and all our livestock for your father’s shooting in check” she smiled as they entered the sitting room. 

Clara was about to ask for his first name when she saw him. Standing by the fire with her father was a very lean and tall, salt and pepper haired man. In fact his hair was perfect, unbrushed and wild, it made her hands suddenly crave to run through it, the shorter firmer style that looked just so much more gentleman than these floppy haired boys she had been dating. His eyes dancing between liquid silver and a light metallic blue. She found herself biting her lip as she approached drinking him in, dressed in a casual dark grey tweed suit jack, with dark suit trousers and long black boots. A country man indeed. A different man.   
Was it the stubble? The large callous hands that were so tenderly nursing the glass of scotch, the large unruly eyebrows, the lines that darkened his features, she was unsure, the only thing could tell was this man was older, than her father, not by much, even if his weather worn face added age see saw a spark dance in his eyes when he looked to her.

Oh...had they been talking?   
“Are you quiet well my dear?” asked her father whose brow was furrowed in concern in not receiving a reply. “oh sorry father, million miles away” she smiled stepping up to his side shyly, “ah, I said this is Mr Smith our new Game Keeper, you will be seeing him around a lot, taking care of our lands and our dinner” he laughed gesturing to the two very large pulp grouse that lay on the rack for the cook.

“Mr Smith? Rather a mysterious name...” Clara joked as she held out her hand customary and blushed as he took it, the merest brush of his cool thin lips of her fingers and felt sparks fly up her arm. “You must be Miss Oswin, it is pleasure to finally put such a beautiful face to a well known name” he chuckled. She blushed again, her heart constrained by some unknown force, his accent, good grief even his voice was rough and dangerous, worn yet it warmed her, was he ... Scottish?  
“Mr Smith has moved from the border of Glasgow to our humble village, looking for a little more private work” her father said as he continued their conversation, Clara let the word blend into the smoky air of the fire lit sitting room. She could just not take her eyes from this man.

Now she looked closer she saw his dirty fingernails, and spots of mud on his boots, the small thistle lapel pin, which seemed to be of some other country club.   
It was not long before Jenny returned calling them for dinner and once again they sat eating in conversation about the clubs, golf, Mr Smith’s experience with Game Keeping, how he tried to humanly keep foxes away and he spoke of two very sweet sounding sheepdogs, yet his mood became a bit gruff when he mentioned poachers, “I promise you Mr Oswald if I see one of those floppy haired boys on your land without permission I will have no deal in giving him a good old sacred with ‘the old girl’” he said sharply causing her father to for some reason smile, his tone scared her, yet that fear became excitement, just what else was she to learn from this handsome, rugged country fellow. ‘The old girl’ being a very large and polished double barrel gun that sat beside the fireplace, he had brought it to show her father.

Turns out Mr Smith lived quite a way down the field in the little cottage beside the duck pond her father also owned, he was a windowed man, no children and had been raised as a Game Keeper by his grandfather, well travelled ... but further explanation though was cut short as a car arrived to take him home. 

Clara followed the men out to the front to wave goodbye, yet she was torn between asking one finally question, her heart gave in and she dashed the steps to grace his side before he got into the car, “Mr Smith...I-“ her word caught in her throat as he turned, a very collected look about his face. His eyes hinted about a danger, eyes that she was sure had seen more places than she could imagine. “I never got your...name?” she asked gently a blush tinting her cheeks, her heart raced in her breast as the older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but as she bit her lip he smirked...”Names are none important lass, but if you like, many who know of me...just call me The Doctor.” He said calmly, and then climbed into the car; Clara stepped back beside Jenny as it drove away. The name sent shivers across her body.

“Is something wrong dear?” Jenny asked as Clara stared after the leaving car.   
She didn’t know, well no nothing was wrong, nothing was wrong at all...in fact things were so clear she had no words but few.

“I-I think I’m in love...”


	2. Beyond The Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara finally get's to see Mr Smith again...but this time she is gettin brave.  
> Is it love, or just a crush...

4 days had passed since she met Mr Smith and every time she passed the gate to the fields in her afternoon walk she paused. Part of her, ached to see him again. Part of her was curious as to just why they called him The Doctor.   
Yet a bigger part of her was afraid to cross that boundary alone.  
There were animals in those fields, not only that but she was unprepared for the rough grounds and her father would never agree to have her dressed like a 'scallyman' as he called the country men. 

It was late afternoon before dinner she was watching from her bedroom window when she saw him. Merely a spot in the field with his dogs. Patrolling.   
She was quick to dress light, she shrugged on her most recent ex boyfriends thick flannel shirt, and dashed out to the gate as the Game Keeper made his way up.

"Heelloo" she giggled as one of the dogs padded over to the gate and she reached through to pet him. "What's your name?" She asked as he nestled into her hands his black and white patchy fur was brilliantly soft; in fact he was very well groomed. "That one my dear is Jamie..." called Mr Smith as he strode towards her through the slightly thick grass. “My girl here is call Jane" as the smaller brown and white sheepdog approached a little more cautiously. 

Clara's eyes met the man’s face as he finally came to a stop on the other side of the gate.  
Hair still unruly, unshaven, in fact he was rather mucky...hands caked in grit, his shirt also, his jacket a little weathered with threads becoming loose and his boots damp from the late rain.  
She smirked and stood up leaning on the gate, he was a good foot taller than her, she was quite small compared, the gate almost above her chin.  
He looked her over curiously, "rather a unusual outfit for such a lass as yourself my dear" he said shuffling the rabbits under his arm.   
She felt herself blushing again at his voice; every roll of the R's went right through her.

He just chuckled and continued before she could reply, "I have got a few catches for your Pa my lass if he is wanting them..." he said gesturing to the string of rabbit under his arm.   
Clara winced she hated seeing bunnies killed. Alas it was not like they would go extinct.  
"Oh-I-I am sure he would love them ... thank you" she smiled shyly as he laid a hand on gate beside her own with a smirk.   
She swallowed at his expression; it was very sly, very knowing. "So...what is a lass, such as yourself doing out in this cold afternoon air dressed as ye are eh... should you not be cuddled up with some floppy haired rich lad by the fire?" He asked in an almost judgemental tone. As he expected her to go 'oh of course how silly of me' she may have be well bred but she was no fairy lady who wanted waiting on, oh no. 

"Not really...I’m bored of the floppy haired lads...no backbone and too much money" she said simply, then laughed as he raised an eyebrow comically. "Too much money?" He said as if amazed then smirked. "Aye I must say what can a rich man give a girl who already has all she needs eh?" He replied looking down at the dogs at his feet.   
"Shall we finish our round lad?" He asked Jamie, who sat up obediently wiggling his tail.   
"I will come by and drop these for you father once we are done lass" he offered as he turned glancing back where he had come from.   
Clara hesitated, part of her afraid to ask, yet a bigger part of knew if anyone was best to venture out with it would be him.

"Mr Smith? W-would it be possible that I can join you?" She asked timidly, she wanted to explore, but mostly she wanted to talk to him longer.  
The Game Keeper's brow furrowed in confusion before raising an eyebrow. "Now why would an upstanding lass wish to venture in a muddy field like this?" He asked coolly.   
Clara raised herself higher on the gate, "My father forbids me forever passing this gate alone and I have always hoped to view our lands every since I was a little girl...seeing as I have no other man who would venture these lands with me I...I guessed..." she trailed off letting him make the connection.  
He chuckled darkly and scratched at his chin. He looked to the dogs then his cottage and back at her. 

"Your a little under dressed my dear... but ..." he took a deep breath in consideration. "I will let you join me if ye can promise me 3 things?" He said stepping back to the gate and leaning on it to look down at her.   
Clara bit her lip as his eyes looked her over, like a wolf at its prey.   
"Yes?"   
"First I have te shoot something ye anit going to be squealing out on me..." he said. She nodded.   
"Secondly, if I say stay, you will stay...". She nodded again.  
"And thirdly..." he started before looking up the gardens to the house "that your father will not try and maim me with my own shot gun for doing so?" He gave her a serious look...  
She bit her lip..."he would not say no...yet perhaps you would feel better I ask?" She paused knowing it may have to wait till the morrow.

He pursed his lips leaning closer over the gate to view her shoes..."tell ye what, you go ask your Pa and I will pop back me house and get you some boots so you don’t mess up those heels...okay?" He said clasping his gun again and taking a few strides away, Clara smiled, "okay..." she said quietly and tugging on her sleeves dashed off back in the direction of the house.

She dashed into the living room to see her father sat as usual by the fire with his coin collections. 'Father? I-I have something to ask?" She stuttered.  
Her father glanced up from his books and blinked, “I wish to accompany Mr Smith on the last part of his evening round...”   
Mr Oswald was shocked a for a moment before he shoved his glasses back up his nose, “Just why would you wish to do that my dear...” he asked confused, Clara shrugged, “I just wish to see beyond the gate a little, I promise I will not go far, I have promised him I will keep to his promises for my safety” she said hopefully, her father shut the book with a snap and drummed his fingers on top, he then scratched at the back of his neck before answering, “Oh, okay, I guess you can ... this once...” he said sternly making her smile fade, “unless...you can get me a pheasant...” he smirked, Clara’s smile returned, “I can try..” she laughed running from the room and back out of the mansion, just why was she so happy? She had never been this happy...especially to spend time with other man.

She slowed as she reach the gate, Jamie sat there happily beside a pair of boots and its owners gun, his tail wriggling in excitement as she approached, she was just about to ask where it’s owner had gone when he appeared from behind a tree, zipping up his fly. She blushed in realisation of what he’d been doing...no, no thiknking bout that. Naughty.  
But she couldn't help herself, "w-what were you doing?" she giggled reaching down for the boots, he raised a bushy eyebrow, "marking my territory?...w-what do you think I was doing?" he said sarcastically rolling his eyes,  
“Hurry up and put the boots on lass, we need to get back before dark...” he smirked as he saw her blush fiddling with his jacket. She quickly pulled on the boots and he unchained the gate letting her into the field. She never felt more excited. The line of trees hide a lot of the view so the moment she stepped past, she was breath taken, the fields stretched out far and wide and all directions, Mr Lloyds maze garden could be seen in the distance. 

“Don’t stand gawking you wee pudding brain” he laughed, “come on there is a lot more than just the view to show you...” he shouted as he marched away, Clara took one last long look about before racing after him...  
The fields went left right and centre, changed from deep thick lush green to light dry browns, just as they reached a thick patch of tall grass on the edge of the main field Mr Smith shot his arm out to hold Clara behind him, she stopped immediately, peering around his arm, “what is?” she whispered, Mr Smith just smirked and pointed slowly, just in the low bushes a head popped up...a baby deer.

“oh my good god..” she breathed, he looked back her curiously, “you never seen a baby deer lass?” he asked, she shook her head, “never in life, pictures of course...but this, no..” she grinned and he grinned back, suddenly the deer was forgotten, she couldn’t take her eyes from his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, his slightly crooked teeth, the way his eyes glittered...she only looked away when he raised an eyebrow, clearly in question as to why she was staring at him...he just sniffed and watched as the deer leapt away.  
They made the round quickly, and were just passing the Gate Keepers house when they paused to admire the ducks. “It’s a shame I can’t come down here more often” she said quietly as she watch the dogs dash off into the barn were they liked to sleep. Mr Smith frowned as they stepped into his woodhouse to drop his gun off. “Why would that be?” he said curiously “What did your Pa say? 

Clara looked to him and bit her lip, she considered lying saying he would only let her out on Sunday evenings but decided against it, “he said I could only continue to pass the gate if I was with you and if...if I got him a pheasant?” she said with a shrug, she knew pheasants were rare on their lands, but she had hoped she might see one tonight.  
Mr Smith rubbed at stubble on his chin thinking, she looked very down trodden about not coming out again and he had to admit, he had enjoyed her company even if they had not spoken of much...he was going soft...”tell ya what...wait here.” He said with a smirk and stepped through a big wooden door into his house, he came back a few moments later, with a pheasant feather. 

“You give this- to your Pa and tell him we got him one okay, tell him, I’m gunna strip it for him, and I will bring one to you tomorrow at the gate at 5, okay?” he said mockingly like he would a daughter. Clara was grinning manically at the huge tail feather he handed her. She was just so happy, she hugged him. He went ridged at first laughing but reluctantly brought his hands to her waist to push her back, she glanced up to his rugged face again, now or never said her heart and the next thing her lips knew were his.   
Her warm plump lips met cool thin ones, unmoving and unprepared yet when she found herself moving her lips to coax him, he kissed back. No more than twice and she rocked back on her hells pulling away, she blushed, “s-sorry...Goodnight” she muttered turning and making a jog for the gardens garden up the hill, she had not got more than 10 feet away when she looked back out of curiosity, to see him smiling.

“Goodnight Miss Oswald...” he smirked. 

Oh she was in love alright.


	3. Poachers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning grpahic sexual scences

She had kissed him. Clara had spent all night dancing about and fretting over that kiss, she was so nervous to see him again, that kiss to her had set her world ablaze, to him on the other hand, she had no idea and for goodness sake she hardly knew him at all. It was whilst she fussed over her cooked breakfast that morning that she decided she would talk with him, properly. It was very unlady like just to go gallivanting off with some older gentleman who possibley didn’t think of this anymore than a sign of affection.

She was after all just a young woman, he had, had a wife before, a life before and that worried her to think perhaps she was really just being silly. Her father had been rather happy with the feather and agreed, as long as he got to see the bird that evening she would have her wish to pass that gate as much as she liked, she just hoping The Game Keeper had managed to get a bird. She had prepared to use some hidden savings to pay him for such an act of kindness to her. Though she realised he had already much more than money from her, he already had her heart.

He hadn’t slept much. The moment Clara had gone from site he was quick to make the walk towards Mr Bill’s farm down the hill, the man had plenty of pheasants from time to time and the men owed him a favour. As it was, Bill had lovely bird for him and handed it over with little fuss of payment, but merely just happy to help an old friend. He had immediately taken the bird back to the house and plucked it, gathering the tail feathers and tying them up in a bunch, before adding a few wildflowers from the garden, he had left the bloom in the kitchen in water and laid on the sofa, unable to sleep, his lips tingled. He hadn’t been kissed since ‘she’ died. The feeling felt new again. It felt raw. It hurt.

But a bigger part of him craved that he wanted that chance again. It had been 8 years. Perhaps he had grieved enough.

She paced and paced her rooms until 5pm. She dressed as the previous night but this time pulled on the boots he had given her, planning her elegance and conversation on her way downstairs, but as she reached the hill and stopped him walking up the field she found herself running down the gardens to the gate.

He had arrived as promised bird in hand and dog at his feet. A rare smile gracing his features as she came closer. He looked away. He was saddened to think he had to say she could not join him tonight, why was he so attached to this young woman? Yes her curiosity was refreshing and he admired her more grown up attitude to dating as such but, surely she was not really interested in a man like him. He was old. He was only 3 years younger than her father. He was not much for a man than he was a coward, he was no overly rich man, he had all he needed and she had pick of any young man at those country clubs. Perhaps he was being too nice. Hell, he had not asked bill for that favour in 17 years. Why all of a sudden did he feel he must give this young bird her wings?

Clara slowed as she reached the bottom of the garden and blushed as she got to the gate. He struck her as one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Country club pretty boys be damned, if she could take heart, she would choose in a second. He was unshaved still, but dressed just as smartly as he had been that evening they met. His eyes shimmered like small rock pools and she yearned to explore there depths.

“Mr Smith” she tried to offer casually as if she had not just run for her life’s worth as a school girl down her gardens. He smirked. Damn, that was not going to work. “Ye a bit out of bit of breath lass, nice run?” She rolled her eyes at him and herself. So much for elegance and conversationalist.

“Your bird?” he offered lifting the canvas bag over the fence and then handing her the flowers he had arranged with the feathers. She gasped. Genuinely surprised. The gesture meant more to her than the huge boxes of flowers the boys sent by courier. It screamed gentleman, not shy teenage boy. “And my apology” he said as took them from his hand. Clara beamed over the flowers for a moment before glancing his to him curiously. “Apology? Mr Smith what could you have done wrong by me?” she asked seeing him sigh. “I-I am afraid you may not wish to accompany me tonight, you see, word has spread that there is a pair of Poachers about on Francis’s land, there next stop could be here and likely tonight...I would not want you in danger when guns are involved my dear.” He said quietly, hoping she could understand.

Yes, a little part had been a lie. There was news of poachers yet the ideals they may attack tonight were untrue. He was just afraid he was giving her hope. He saw the affection in her eyes and it frightened him that he enjoyed it. Especially when from someone so young, Clara pursed her lips. She had to agree her father would be very unhappy with this news, but she felt undeterred.

“Mr Smith, your news is troublesome of only to my father, to me, not so much, I would still accompany you, though if you are certain I am only to be of hinder then I shall join you tomorrow?” she offered, placing the flowers down and leaning on the gate, a challenge. He licked his lips. He was caving. Hel he had already caved. “I-I would not have any argument but to your safety...” he tried before she cut him off, “then I shall join you, I recall your rules Mr Smith, I can promise I will do as you say” she smiled as she opened the gate and stepped past crouching to ruffle Jamie’s ears as he shuffling closer to greet her.

He ran a hand over his face. She was stubborn, but no less than he was.

They were just over half way down the first of the fields when they stopped. Another deer and it’s baby grazed happily on the edge and they sat in the low tree’s to watch them. “They enjoy thick patches like this, you have a good few about here, I say if you allow a little thicket to grow at your side in the gardens, they will wander through and you will see them more often” he answered when she asked why the deer did not venture higher up.

“A race horse breeders I know of had plenty roaming about his fields with his horses” he explained picking at the grass beside him. Clara had inched closer and closer to his side, her small hand now rested on his thigh. He made no mention of it though, it was when the topic became more personal he became nervous, “I will have to invest in some better wear if I plan to come out here more often” she muttered running her fingers over the fabric of his tweed jacket her finger becoming endangering close to his groin. He coughed, shuffling and standing, “Keep an eye open, I-I m just going to-“ he nodded to the trees, Clara merely raised an eyebrow.

He ducked into the trees and made for several feet away before checking she was petting Jamie before he began to unbutton his jodhpurs, He hadn’t lied this time, he did need to...go, yet he was more or less in need to rearrange himself, her touch had gone right to his groin, if he had left it much longer she may have noticed the growing tent in his pants. He hurried to pee, yet he became so lost in his thoughts he never heard her come closer... She really shouldn’t she told herself, but her curiosity won out and she found herself standing, she looked about then ducked under the trees herself, it took her a moment to spot him a few feet away, she felt rooted to the spot. He seemed to be muttering to himself.

It was too late when she realised she was too close, catching her toe on a branch under the leaves, she tripped landing with a heavy ‘oufff’ against the tree he was behind. He was about do himself up when she fell, in instinct he pounced grasping whoever it was behind the tree, not expecting it to be her and spinning them into his grasp, he pulled his fist back to aim at the intruder when he saw it was Clara. “I’m Sorry!!” she squeaked, wincing in his grasp as he pinned her bodily to the tree, it took him a moment, but dropped his hands, brushing away the dirty hand print he left on her little coat, “N-No, no, w-what, what are ye doing here, I said keep an eye out?” he said sharply and confused concerned for a moment she had come to tell him about something and not really finding the energy to be mad. He noticed her bit her lip. Why did he keep looking at them, they seemed so small and soft, but was broken from his trance as she shuffled, he was still pressed against her. “S-Sorry, I err, I ... I wanted to ask you, something?” she stuttered, being this close to the man had her heart in her throat, her legs felt like jelly and she just wanted to shut herself up by kissing him again. _Oh god I wish I could kiss you._

Mr Smith raised an eyebrow pretending not to notice how close they were, letting his eyes run down her small frame, his palms beginning to sweat. Just one more. please. Clara could see in his eyes an unspoken question, a look of inner turmoil and her mouth spoke the words her brain begged she would not, “Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered, He couldn’t answer, he swallowed hard. His body was betraying him and he hated himself for it. _It isn’t love, just a crush, you don’t mean anything._ He was trying to force himself away. Alas her hand came up to his shoulder and he caved. “Because you’re looking at me like you want to kiss me again” he answered quietly, the honest truth burnt right off his tongue in that accent, Clara never stood a chance. “I always want to kiss you” she breathed before she brought her arms around his neck and he lent in those few inches to meet her lips. _Bliss._

He didn’t want anything to matter right now, nothing apart from the small hands on his collar and the soft lips moving so tenderly with his. His previous arousal stirring between them, as they indulged themselves on each other’s taste. We shouldn’t be doing this. Clara pressed herself closer, his thick stubble scrapping again her soft cheek, his kiss thinner and cooler against her plump warm lips, his teeth sharper and jagged clashing with her neat pearls, his scent more wild, stronger, deeper than any cologne those boys could wear. He was so much more. He was so much more the rugged and challenging man she had craved. _Can I have it?_

The closer she pressed the more she felt his arousal, and he grunted as she ground against him, she wanted him, here and now, in the woods, in the rough, in the leaves, not in her bed or in her rooms, she wanted him in passionate abandonment not in a romantic ritual of love. He found his hands falling from the tree to her legs, nails gently scraping up the soft skin as he curled his fingers under the hem of her skirts, lips unwavering, spurred on by her little moans and keens of pleasure, he sort out her centre, lifting the skirt up to gain access, and bravely pressing his hand to her molten core, already the silky material was damp against his palm.

“Tell...me...to stop...” he breathed, part a warning and part a challenge, he was asking whether she wanted this, he didn’t want to stop of course but as the daughter of his employer he could be in serious trouble if she turned tail afterwards. “Gods...don’t stop...” she panted head falling back against the tree and eye fluttering shut as he kissed at the exposed skin of her neck. She was so small and delicate in his grasp, so wet and wanting. He on the other hand was larger, rougher, heavier, but just as hard and wanting. She hooked a leg around his waist lifting herself level with his groin as he held her against the tree trunk.

His finger slipping past the damp silk of her panties to tease at her entrance, “God, your wet...you’ve been thinking about this haven’t you?” he purred in her ear making her shiver. She nodded. No reason to lie now. He couldn’t fight the smirk, “grief you’re a kinky one for such an ‘upstanding lady’” he joked as she squeaked, his fingers slipping deeper inside her tight heat. She grasped at his jacket resting her forehead against his own, “I want a man, Mr Smith, you name a guy in that club and he has tried his hardest to woo me, but you...oh no. You merely walk in a room and I cannot breathe, all I can think of, is you pinning me to a surface and screwing me senseless, you have the grit I want, I want you, I love you...from the day I met you I loved you!” she panted running and hand into his hair as their lips crashed together in a display of fevering desperation. _I want you too. I want something new. I want to feel you._

He slipped his toying fingers free and lined himself to her entrance breaking the kiss for a mere moment for a hesitant glance before she brought her other leg around him and he was inside her, his throbbing length sliding deep into her molten wet heat and it ripped a throaty moan from his lips as she whimpered into his embrace. There was no pause for adjustment, no waiting or ‘are you okay’...she was not into all that, no she was far too gone and within seconds of him fully sheathed inside he was thrusting and she was moaning incoherently into his shoulder words of pleasure and want.

“Ah, fuck” He hissed and grunted and growled, the swear merely a spark to the inner flame of arousal inside her and she moaned in his ear the closer she came. He couldn’t stop himself nor slow down, his brain had shut down and left on the simplest of orders, her heat felt so good, her arousal dripping down her thighs, the slick sound of their joining and the mixed frantic breathing the only sounds to be heard, “Say it” he panted, feeling his own orgasm creeping up. “Say it” Clara was unsure just what he meant as she was too lost in the sensation of him thrusting inside her, she whimpered and rocked against him clawing at his shoulders feeling herself begin to shake as her climax coiled in his stomach. “Say it...say it for me Clara....please” he growled as he angled her hips just so to stroke her G spot.

The coil snapped instantly and she crashed headlong into the most intense orgasm she had felt in over a year, trembling and gushing with only a name on her lips, “DOCTOR!”

He was coming, groaning with a final few thrusts into her heat and spilling all he could inside her, his hands grasped her hips so tightly he knew he might leave a mark. A mark to remember him by, a mark of unbridled need and passion, simply a craving and unspoken word of love.

He was unsure how he still stood after that, the small women a crumpled purring heat in his arms, his own body a thrumming heat of pleasure and contentment. “C-Clara...”he breathed as he slipped himself free, her arousal smothering their thighs and soaking into he dry leaves beneath them. He had never felt a woman as receptive as that. He blushed as her vision cleared to find her elf still held in his arms against the tree, the whole forest around them and the whole world could have seen. But no, they were alone and he was watching her curiously, drawing circles in her soft thighs with his thumbs as he reined his breathing under control.

No snarky comments, no jokes, just a fire in his eyes and the unspoken question of want. _Kiss me again._ She giggled and pulled him in claiming his lips once more in pre orgasmic bliss, her heart now in his pocket and more than happy to feel that his was in hers too. Sadly the afterglow was spoilt by a rather loud bang. “What was that?!” she gasped breaking from him and he carefully let her stand again. He hurriedly tucked himself away as Jamie started to bark. He glanced to her as she started to tug her shirt together.

“it was a gunshot lass, the sound of Poachers”


	4. Choices

Chapter 4 –   
Choices  
Grabbing his gun they quickly made their way through the thicket to a small group of tree’s. Mr Smith waved at Clara to stay back a few paces with Jamie whilst he investigated, and just as he suspected two young men sat crouched behind some bramble with a rabbit gun, an old one at that.   
He stood back against the tree trying to listen to the conversation. “Come on Michael it’s cold!” Brett complained glaring at the muddy ground around them, “Will you shut it, we can’t let The Game Keeper know were here you idiot!” the one called Michael grumbled aiming again.   
Leaning around the other side of the tree Mr Smith could see what they were aiming at. The baby deer stood shivering only 10 or so meter’s away, it’s mother clearly spooked off from the first gunshot, he snarled. He always found it disgusting to see young animals killed for status. The two boys were cleaning dressed, tweed and leather, their lapels both with clear marks of the local country club, it was clear they were out on a ‘brag war’. 

Brag wars were common within the young population of the country club, one lad would return either from a hunt or holiday with stories of endeavours of his apparent man hood and the other lads would take challenge to show there were just as good, whether it was starting a business, or killing an animal, there was always something going on.   
“For goodness sake shoot the darn thing, you know Rachel will say no to dinner with you if you don’t!, We can’t let Samuel get too big a head about that hunt can we” Brett whispered as Michael reloading the gun shakily. “I said shut up!” “Anyways why are you bothered about Rachel, are you not dating Miss Oswald?” he asked looking confused at the other lad.   
“Miss Oswald thinks she is too good for me, I have a feeling she will be giving me the finger come the meeting on Friday” Brett huffed.   
Mr Smith raised an eyebrow and snuck his way back to Clara grasping her hand and pulling her a few more feet back from the boys. “Two lads, Michael?” he asked quietly looking to her wondering if she could place the name. Her eyes widened on horror then in anger, “Why is that coward here?" she muttered. “You know him?” he breathed, glancing down to her ruffed state admiring her for a moment. Clara nodded, “The Joshua brothers we call them, Michael and Brett are best friends, they are in line to take Michael’s father’s car business in a few years” she explained.   
Mr Smith frowned. “Joshua brothers?”   
“Josh? As in joke, they are Idiots and cowards, neither of them any proper school qualification and all they do is play with their father’s money whilst going through every girl at the club” she sighed, “I-I have been dating...Brett...only for about a week or so, but he is just like the rest, a rich git with no understanding of gentleman in the slightest” she sighed again stroking at his jacket. 

Mr Smith smirked, “Idiots and cowards, well sending them running shouldn’t be hard now should it?” he said blank loading his gun with air and firing it behind them, sending a loud and frightful bang into the woods.  
“What was that?!” Brett almost shouted standing glancing about the woods, “Damn it” Michael grumbled as the baby deer took flight into the woods. “It was the game keeper you idiot, come on, let’s move” he said grabbing his mates arm and making there way back into the open field, not expecting the step out straight into the barrel of The Game Keeper.  
“Hello boys” he smirked over from behind the gun, the pair froze for a moment only for Michael to fumble as he tried to lift the gun, “Ah Ah I wouldn’t” The Game Keeper tutted as Jamie started to snarl violently. Clara peered out from behind him reaching down to sooth the dog a little; she stepped up to his side, “What are you two cowards doing here” she demanded glaring at the pair. Brett went white in shock and looked away. “N-Nothing” he tried to lie and Michel elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Shut up” he growled again still trying to aim the gun at the Keeper.

Mr Smith stood unfazed gun cocked at aimed defiantly at the young man’s head. “Put. The. Gun Down.” He snarled eyes darkening. Neither moved.   
“Do as he says Michael, your father will already hear enough of this, I doubt he wants a dead body with the news” Clara huffed crossing her arms. “Both of you will suffer for even thinking of touching an animal on my father’s land” she said sharply.   
“I said Shut up!” Michael growled at her his gun shaking terribly. Mr Smith snapped, “Don’t You dare, EVER, tell Miss Oswald to shut...up!” he shouted angrily stepping forward quickly the gun raised and snapping of the safety off as the young man stumbled back. The small snap back pellet rabbit gun was no match to the pre loaded shining doubled barrelled gun aiming at his head.   
“Down” The Game Keeper growled again and Brett dropped to his knees when Jamie barked. “Michael for god’s sakes do it man, the longer you play the worse your father will punish us” he shouted scared. Clara turned away from Brett stepping up to Mr Smith again and reaching up to his shoulder steadying him, he took his eyes from the young man for a second to side glance her worried face.   
“Drop the gun and run, before I make you drop the gun and you have to crawl home” he growled again, sadly only a threat, as angry as he was, he would never shoot the young man in front of Clara.

Michael saw the hand on The Game Keepers shoulder and took in her dishevelled state, he looked to Brett, “Looks like you have already been dumped by her, seems she prefers older men” he smirked, gripping his gun tighter. Mr Smith gritted his teeth but said nothing.   
“That is none of your business, but yes I am dumping you, I was thinking about giving you a chance but after this, I do not want to even speak to one of you again” Clara snapped at the pair. Brett glared to her, “As if I wanted anything to do you with you either, you were nothing more than a dare!” he growled back making Clara laugh at his childish retort.  
A few moments passed in silence as the two men stared each other down behind the guns and them Michael lowered his, stepped back with a hand raised.   
Clara squeezed The Keepers shoulder and he lowered his gun as well, Brett scrambled to his feet and dashed to his friend’s side as they backed away towards the field’s gates. The pair marched after them herding the pair towards the main path, Brett climbed the gate first and Clara turned away from them to go back to Jamie sat a few meters back. But as Mr Smith went to clear his gun Michael lifted his and caught it on the gate sending the loaded pellet at the Keeper. 

Clara spun in terror as she heard the shot and the cry of pain, the boys yelling profanity and leaving the rabbit gun legging it away up the path as Mr Smith fell to his knees.  
It took Clara several moments to register what had happened and scrambled to his side as he clutched his arm. The fabric of his coat was torn and blood seeped out through his fingers. “Little bastard” he grunted as he let Clara remove the gun tucked under his arm. She lay it aside and removed one of her blouses doing up the coat to cover herself, wrapped it tightly around his fare arm and helped him to his feet.  
She picked up the gun and he showed her how to clear it before she let Jamie take it and he carried it for them as they marched back up the hill over to his cottage. Jamie let Clara rack the gun back up before heading to his basket to cuddle with Jane. Mr Smith stumbled into his kitchen grasping a bottle of whiskey and slugging back a good few mouthfuls before Clara joined him and helped strip him of his jacket and shirt and laying a towel down on counter, “Aid box in the cupboard darling” he grunted as he seated himself at the counter, as thick pair of tweezers in his hand, Clara grasped the box and then joined him at the table.   
Clara’s make shift tourniquet helped to stop the blood as he worked free the tiny lead shot that was stuck in his forearm. “Should we not call a Doctor?” she asked worriedly as he winced. He smirked glancing to her as he managed to pry it free dropping it and the tweezers on to the counter. “I am a Doctor remember” he sighed as she clamped a hand over the wound with a thick piece of gauze. 

Another mouthful of whiskey and the removement of his belt to bite on, he worked to stitch up the wound with degradable thread. Clara sat through it all quietly unwilling to question the determination he had in fixing things himself. When he finished, he relaxed to let her bandage it for him. The burning question still stood and she could not longer ignore it.   
“Why are you called The Doctor? I was not told you had medical knowledge” she muttered biting her lip as she tenderly wrapped up his forearm in the bandage. Mr Smith had gone to swig at the alcohol again but paused at her question. “It’s a joke”

Clara looked up from her work on his arm, “I’m sorry?” 

“It is a joke lass, they call me The Doctor because of my past...they call me that because of the crimes I made not because of souls I saved” he sighed forgetting the booze.   
Clara pinned the bandage and took his hand. She wanted to press but she felt perhaps that was all that he needed to say. He looked to her sadly. “Turned out, I guess I did need a Doctor, it just came in a different package” he smirked and Clara blushed. “I think I spent too long alone...” he muttered leaning closer and Clara cupped his rough jaw, the stumbled thick and sharp against her soft palm, a feeling she would never grow tired off.   
“Well, you will be alone no longer Mr Smith...” she smiled as he grinned toothily at her answer, “No-one is alone when they have love...”   
He was quick to kiss her demandingly once that word left her lips, he feared the word, he feared the feeling yet it was there, deep inside, he felt love.   
Clara was fast to kiss him back, teasing his lower lips with her teeth she teased him closer, the taste of whiskey flooding her senses and making him purely her world, he broke the kiss for a moment as he pushed his feet and stepped around the table to scoop her into his arms, kissing her again.   
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her clean from the floor carrying her swiftly into the adjoining bedroom. The kiss never broke as he knelt on the bed with her still wrapped around him, and he worked to undo her top, buttons free and tossed aside, he lay her down on the bed, kissing at her throat as they worked her free of her skirts, he groaned at the feeling of her hands in his hair, the feeling of a lover, the grounding feeling of being human. 

“I-Clara?” he panted as she pushed at his trousers eager to have him bare to her own gaze eager to feel him inside her again, the unasked question, he still feared she could regret her motives, she could still run whilst she was unharmed. “Too late...you had me ages ago” she breathed pulling him back to her lips.   
Clothes aside she wrapped her legs around his waist pulling wordlessly for him, he struggled to argue, his arousal pressing against leg. The alcohol sloshed about in his mind leaving him feeling warm, perhaps even dizzy as it danced with the lust in his head. 

He scrapped his teeth playfully against her delicate throat as she guided him inside her wet core, her nails clawing his back as her moan filled the room. She knew her father would be having fits if he saw his innocent lady like daughter being deflowered by such a rough and darkened man. That knowledge spurred her lust and fired her arousal as he filled her.   
“Yes...Doctor!” she begged as he thrust deeply, one hand clutching the sheets and the other grasping her small hip he grunted as he rocked into her, the feeling of her heat around him sparked fireworks down his spine, he felt her trembling beneath him as she pressed back against his movements, frenzied kisses between moans and cries of pleasure blended with the creak of the bed and the sound of damp skin on damp skin, orgasms coiling to new heights.

“C-Clara...Clara!” he shouted as she came beneath him, her core fluttering around his length, arousal dribbling down onto the sheets and her moan right next to his ear was so erotic so full of lust it sent his pleasure swirling and with a final thrust he came inside her once more, back going stiff and hips jerking as he spilled moaning into her neck.   
She clutched him to her as he relaxed against her panting. “I love you” she squeaked quietly as her mind fought from its daze, he sighed and nuzzled her neck sliding his arms beneath her and he rolled them over to lay her against his chest. “I love you Doctor” she breathed again settling against him as he pulled a sheet across her. He watched her as she began to drift to sleep on his chest, so many words argued to be voiced in his head, everything that was wrong and everything that was right, but the only thing he could find to say was the only thing that could say everything at once. 

“And I love you, Miss Clara Oswald”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly this is the last chapter I have for this, I did not want to give it a fairytale ended nor an angsty ending, but if you have any ideas as how you would like this to continue I am happy to try add another chapter :)


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